


Injustice

by Olareema



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Dani Powell, Blood and Injury, Dani Powell is a Good Friend, Episode: s02e01 It's All in the Execution, Fights, Gen, Hurt Malcolm Bright, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Dani Powell, Racism, Whump, but more whumpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 01:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olareema/pseuds/Olareema
Summary: Tom snatched a whip from Izzy's dungeon. It caught his eye and he decided to add it to his own humble collection. But then the Police declared they had Natalie under arrest for crimes she was innocent of. Looks like he'll put the whip to use earlier than he expected.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I basically wrote this in a couple of hours instead of sleeping. It's my first posted fic. I'm no writer, I'm only recently self-indulging.  
> A lot of dialogue is taken directly from the scene, some is changed a bit to serve the purpose of more whumpiness.

Their justice killer was supposed to make contact with them any minute now. Malcolm made sure of that.  
All the leads Dani was running were only a counter measure. Just in case. But the profile he built, he believed to be solid.  
Malcolm was thinking of all the possibilities of how things could go down once the killer made contact with the Major Crimes tip line, when he entered his loft. His phone vibrated and his head was still preoccupied as he answered Dani.

"What's up?"

"The executioner's name is Tom He.."

The crack of a whip thundered in the enclosed space of his loft just a millisecond before he felt the agonizing fire lashing across his arm and chest. The phone from which Dani's voice was still speaking flew from his hand to crash on the floor.  
The sudden pain took his breath away and blood seeped to his shirt, while he was still trying to process exactly what happened.  
But Malcolm had only one second to move his head to look at his attacker before the whip cracked again and he found himself chest restrained by it. 

Still breathless, he tried to position his legs in a way that allowed him to counterbalance what he knew was coming, but before he could properly brace himself, he was harshly pulled to hit the ground, face first.  
Malcolm just about avoided his nose being smashed by tilting his head sideways, but there was nothing he could do to his head and ear being smashed instead.

The world went dim and silent. 

All of his head was one throbbing agony, and his chest was heaving as much as the whip coiled around it allowed. 

Warmth spread about his cheek and temple resting on the ground.  
Coppery tang coated the insides of his mouth.  
His chest and arm were bleeding where the first lash cut through the skin.  
And Malcolm really needed to get up. 

His eyes fluttered open, still unseeing, everything was hazy.  
He blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision and focus. First thing he saw was a pair of boots a couple of feet from his face.  
His head couldn't tilt up to see his attacker's face but he was positive it was their justice killer. 

What did Dani say just before he was ambushed?  
The man's name was Tom.  
Good, he can work with that. He only needed to get up. Which proved tricky since he needed his hands to push up, and his arms were trapped.  
It left him with the only option. He needed to roll over to his back and sit up.  
Just as he was about to summon his energy to do that, the boot in his sights moved to push on his shoulder and did the work for him.  
Now he was on his back, but his world went swirling with the move. He didn't think he knew which way was up.

Before his vortex of a vision cleared up, he was being pulled to sit up by the lapels of his shirt.  
"Tom, what are you doing here?" he said, his voice breathy and slurring a bit, the sound was dim as if from far away, not from his own throat.  
Of all the things he could say. That wouldn't help one bit.  
Tom, still holding Malcolm's lapels with one hand, unwrapped the whip from around him, and threw it aside.

"You found the guillotine, found Boyd's immurement. I looked you up, Malcolm." The imposing man admitted, with chilling amusement.

"I even followed you around a little. Visiting your old man in that asylum, like the good son of a serial killer. Surrounding yourself with the tools of his trade."  
He shook his head with disapproval and with the hand not clasping Malcolm's shirt he waved at the antique weapons collection. 

The profiler's hands were now free, but they might as well not be, for it was taking all his energy to keep his head upright.  
His blood ran cold at the knowledge that their suspect had been watching them all this time, even followed him to Claremont.  
What did it say about his luck that the first time he visits his father in all these months, a justice killer would follow him and hold it against him, to the point of murder.

"This doesn't fit your profile," Malcolm said with a slightly stronger voice resulting from sheer determination, "you seek justice, and I'm innocent."  
Tom let Malcolm go with a shove to his sternum that ignited the fire in his lanced skin anew.  
"Then why'd you jail Natalie? You know for a fact she's innocent and yet you condemned her." He sounded like anger boiling over. 

Malcolm tried to hold himself up through his persistent dizziness. His balance was shot. The hit to the side of his head must've affected his ear. But he was nothing if not stubborn. And he needed to buy himself some time to get his bearings so he could stand a chance at this.

"Natalie looks good for Millie's murder." Maybe provoking the killer was not good judgement. He'll blame it on the possible concussion, later.  
The killer in question stopped in his way heading to the weapons cabinet, threw a calculating glare back at Malcolm, then resumed to his target.

Malcolm continued though, "just like her brother did, back in Texas," he took advantage of the man not looking in his direction, and made a couple wobbly steps to reach the kitchen counter, "remember him, Tom? The innocent man you executed?"  
Blood was getting into his eye from the gash on his temple, so he lifted a shaking hand to wipe it off. 

Tom had the weapons' cabinets open and was inspecting them carefully.  
Malcolm reached his knife block and silently grabbed the largest one.  
He hid it behind his back with a trembling arm and made himself look like he was just grabbing the counter for support, which wasn't untrue. 

"That's why you killed Millie, and tortured Boyd, they made you a murderer," Malcolm continued while he watched Tom finally make a choice and grab the scimitar. Oh no. He will not stand a chance fighting against such a long blade with his knife. Especially in his less than stellar state.  
Tom perused the blade and fondly stated, "this scimitar is exquisite."

Malcolm found his chance to dissuade him into some other weapon, "thanks, the weight is off-balance though, affects the swing," He replied with an indifferent tone in hopes of achieving his goal.  
"You use this?" Asked Tom, which presented Malcolm with a more apt opportunity to sink his bait as he replied, "of course not. Nobody actually uses a scimitar." He injected his voice with as much sarcasm and indifference as to be believable.

"You need to let Natalie go," the executioner said as he actually put down the scimitar on the desk. Malcolm heaved a silent breath of relief.  
It was short lived as he watched with apprehension as the man grabbed his 9th century Norse axe.  
With a long handle, it presented the same problem as the sword. Malcolm needed to get up close and personal and have a hand to hand with the guy, if he wanted any chance at incapacitating him. Talking is not going to make any progress, so he saved his breath.

The man looked sharply at Malcolm and started rounding the desk, "the way I see it, if I kill you with this 'executioner's axe', Natalie goes free."  
Malcolm readies himself for the fight coming his way and mumbles, "I wish this made a lot less sense."

If Malcolm told him that the NYPD wasn't really arresting Natalie for the murder, he might spare himself the pain of fighting in his condition. He also might still get killed because Tom has already put him in his cross-hairs and associated him with Martin Whitly. What he was sure of though, was that they would lose any chance at catching him, if Malcolm didn't stall him until Dani arrived with back up. Even if his phone had shattered on impact, he needed to believe Dani would know something was wrong as the line cut off, and come running.

"I'm not a cruel man. I can make it quick," Tom said as he approached.  
"Do I have last words?" He took advantage of the classic executional act and tried to sound sincere.  
"Of course." Took the bait again. Good.  
"Alright…. Last words… ummm," he didn't exactly have a plan for what to say, so he started rambling with the first thing that came to mind, "I used to think I was nothing like my father, but uh," he chuckled ruefully at the memory of dismembering a body that his mind conjured with the words and continued, "that's not entirely true."

He took a tentative small step back to test his ability to move. He was still off balance but he can make due. His hearing was shot in the ear that took the fall, vision was kinda funny, not 100%, but he can still make due. He had to.

"Truth is, my father is a part of me. I can't deny it," Malcolm continued while he took another small step backwards, "that's how I understand killers. I'm like you."

Well, that did it. The executioner took a step forward, "Malcolm Bright, I hereby sentence you to death."  
He raised the axe above his head in a readying stance, and Malcolm hoped to stretch his time some more while the adrenaline started pumping, "I have another confession!" He said hurriedly while he adjusted his grip on the knife handle behind his back,  
"All you do is talk!" Tom shouted and swung the axe. Malcolm jumped backwards, now feeling the adrenaline gushing through his body, fortunately, as the situation was escalating quickly to a life/death kind of thing. He'd rather very much stay alive, he still had a lot to do.

Tom swung again but the smaller man ducked under the handle and in an upward sweeping motion Malcolm slashed the fleshy underside of his attacker's left upper arm.  
Malcolm took the time Tom was assessing his injury to take a few more steps back and increase the distance between them.  
It took the man a couple seconds to grunt and grip the long handle more forcefully with both hands, and advance on Malcolm again.  
This time he made a swing from down upwards leaving no room for Malcolm to duck, only stagger back. His hip hit the back of his couch. With the next swing that came his way he threw himself over the couch, feet over head, and landed on the floor. The world tilted on its axis with the motion and it was harder to stand up. Tom was rounding the couch so Malcolm forced his body to careen toward the opposite direction, and keep going despite dangerously wobbling in disorientation. 

Thankfully he reached the kitchen counter and used it for support.  
"Stop delaying the inevitable." Tom angrily growled while stalking toward Malcolm.  
Malcolm panted and replied, "why should I make your job easier?" He flashed the man an annoying smile.  
With a sudden movement he grabbed his french press and hurled it at Tom's face. The man screamed and dropped the axe in favor of clutching at his face.

Malcolm was particularly proud he disarmed the guy despite being at a disadvantage, and took the reprieve to heave a few breaths of exertion. He readied the knife again and advanced this time, before the man got the chance to recover.

To Malcolm's surprise, his opponent caught his elbow at the last second, and twisted backwards with enough force to break Malcolm's arm or dislocate his shoulder but thankfully stopped just shy of it. Malcolm had to let go of his knife,but twisted his other arm around to grab it blindly from the air. He barely succeeded, as he caught the blade with his palm, instead of catching the handle, but he held onto it anyway as blood seeped from the cut skin of his hand.

In a blink he had the knife in front of him and pushed the handle into his chest so it could slide properly in his hand. In another blink he had the knife drive into his attacker's leg who was till this point still trying to subdue him in a body lock.

Tom screamed with pain and let go of Malcolm with a shove. The knife's handle slipped from his blood slicked fingers, so he was once again weaponless. But at least the killer was still howling and pressing his hands around his wound and not paying attention to Malcolm.

Malcolm rode the momentum of the shove and let himself back far away. He needed to call for backup. He was panting and the lightheadedness was creeping back on him. Overusing the adrenaline was demanding a payback.  
His eyes roamed frantically for his phone. He had lost it just as he entered the door. There it was!  
He headed towards it with a single minded focus. It was a grave mistake. 

Just as he was about to lean over and grab it, the crack of the whip startled him badly out of his inattentiveness to the man behind him. A fiery lash across the back of his thighs forced a painful shout out of his throat. Malcolm didn't get a chance for anything else before a second lash bit his calves. He fell over in agony as he tried not to scream. His eyes were shut tight as he gasped in pain.

With nothing to defend himself with, he was a sitting duck just waiting for the punishment to be doled out to him. Malcom reached out to grab the phone -thankfully still intact-, at least he could try to inform someone in time.

Tom was approaching him slowly like a predator -limping and bleeding predator- would a prey. The knife still protruded from the man's leg, which made the sight a little unnerving. But Malcolm took the opportunity to quickly unlock the phone and press Dani's contact. He left it at arm's length and readied himself.  
The larger man had ditched the whip, it wouldn't do in such close proximity.

"You can't get away with this, Tom. It's in your best interest to surrender yourself. My team is on the way," Malcolm said to Tom, and hopefully Dani too. "You can't run with this leg wound."

"Whose fault is that, you little brat." Replied Tom with venomous contempt as he crouched close to Malcolm's chest and made a grab for him, but Malcolm resisted and they ended up grappling for a bit until suddenly Tom let go and grabbed the knife handle, pulled it out with a shout. 

This is it, Malcolm thought. At the wrong end of a knife again. He didn't think he had more energy for one more struggle. Still, the next second he was pushing back the man's knife wielding arm with his left forearm, and with his right he surprised the guy with an uppercut to the jaw. The human instincts and will to live were powerful like that.  
He scrambled to sit up. Tom lashed blindly with the knife. It caught his left side in a horizontal gash curving back to front. The pain stole his breath away. 

Tom took advantage of Malcolm's shocked state and rounded him, crouched at his back and grabbed his hair. He was only seconds away from slitting his throat when the door opened with a bang and Dani and JT barged in. 

"Put down the knife!"  
"Let him go!"  
They both shouted at the same time. Even if his executioner didn't comply, Malcolm was so grateful they've made it here. 

A gunshot exploded when Tom hesitated a second too long. Malcolm flinched hard, his already injured ear went completely offline, and through his working one he only heard a whistle. It was so loud it magnified his previous headache tenfold.  
At least the man's weight was finally off of his back. It was finally safe enough to rest his tired body. Malcolm closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. And another. Then another. Before he knew it he was panting. He rested his torso's weight back on his elbows and gradually slid to the ground. 

Someone was talking to him. JT or Dani he didn't know. Sounds were funny. There was a comforting touch on his cheek. He was so grateful. It was an island of balm in a raging sea of agony. Malcolm kept his dwindling focus on it, until everything cut to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are parts that I reread a lot, and there are parts that I didn't even look back at. Forgive any blaring mistakes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter was not planned. It surprised me

Dani was panting as she ascended the stairs. Part exertion from the small run around the building, part panic about Malcolm.  
She had called him once she got the info about the executioner, she hadn't even gotten to say the man's full name before she heard a booming crack and a second later the call cut off.  
Immediately she tried calling again but all she got was ringing that slid to voicemail every time.  
Dani had been sure something was definitely wrong, she called JT to inform him of the situation and that she was going to head out to Malcolm's loft, to which he responded with instructions to wait for him and back up before she got in.

When she arrived she parked out front and ran to the back of the building to use the firescape for easier and quicker access. JT had still not arrived with the back up and she decided she was going to break her own rule and JT's order. 

In the back of her mind she considered herself a hypocrite, it wasn't even a few hours ago that she admonished Gil for the exact same behaviour. But in the forefront and center of her mind all she thought about was Malcolm being in danger.  
If that was how Gil felt when he rushed into a dangerous situation, she really needed to apologize to the man.

Now she was almost at Malcolm's loft level of the stairs when JT'S car rounded the building, parked haphazardly and the man slid out. She raised her radio and said, "JT, I'm up the stairs."  
He grabbed his own radio and looked up at her while he replied, "good, back up's supposed to be here now! Wait for us!"

The next five seconds were a complete chaos. 

One- a patrol police car rounded the corner and screeched to a stop behind JT's car, JT spared it a look and headed towards the stairs himself, expecting their colleagues to follow.

Two- her phone vibrated in her pocket, surprised it was Malcolm she immediately answered "Bright we're here!". He didn't reply. But his voice carried as if the phone was away from him, he was talking to their suspect. Her blood ran cold, she was right in her hunch. Malcolm sounded really off, she needed to be there right now. 

Three- Dani looked at JT to tell him to hurry but to her utter shock he was being shoved by their own back up against the wall.

Four- their suspect's voice sounded through her phone followed by an ominous scuffle.

Five- she made her decision and pulled out her badge to be undeniably visible, and ran again down the stairs shouting at the cops,  
"What the hell are you doing! That is detective Tarmel acting head of Major Crimes!"

All eyes flew up to look at her and took in her badge. The cop attacking JT let up and backed a step, eyes looking wildly between her and JT who coughed and grabbed his neck. With his other hand he grabbed his badge and shoved it in front of the other man's face and growled, "this isn't over you piece of shit."

Dani spared only a few seconds to the disengagement of this scuffle but they felt like forever with the knowledge that a killer is currently upstairs attacking her friend.  
JT recovered quickly and was right there rushing the stairs behind her. They left the cops dumbstruck but JT bellowed at them, "will you do your damn job? The one you were actually here for! Our guy is up there in trouble."

Once in front of the door, she and JT assumed their positions, she clicked the door open quietly and JT charged and banged it open all the way.  
Their guns raised, they found the larger man crouched behind Malcolm and forcing their friend's head backward painfully by the hair, about to drive a knife into his neck.

JT and Dani shouted at the same time for the attacker to drop the weapon.

The man looked at them for a second, apparently debating his options.  
Too bad, he doesn't have any. As soon as his eyes shifted to Malcolm again, Dani fired.

She got him in the upper chest just under his clavicle. He'll probably live.  
JT went to secure him and Dani hurried to catch Bright's deflating form. She supported his shoulder until he was flat on the ground, and touched his cheek trying to get his attention.  
"Bright. Malcolm, are you with me?"  
He was definitely not there.  
She kept a hand on his face and with the other one, along with her eyes, she catalogued his injuries.  
The most worrisome was a gash rounding his side that was bleeding profusely.

"JT, we need an ambulance right now!"

"On the way, ETA 5 minutes. How is he?"

"A lot of blood. Find me a towel or something!"

JT crouched on Malcolm's other side, holding a handful of kitchen towels that looked as though never used before. He put a couple on the bleeding gash and pressed hard.  
Dani spared a look behind her and found Glanton being secured near the door with the cop that attacked JT standing guard and reporting through his radio.

A tiny movement under her fingers alerted her to Malcolm whose eyes were fluttering. She tapped lightly on his cheek hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Bright. Can you hear me?"

His eyes opened but were not seeing. 

"Malcolm. Malcolm, look at me. It's Dani"

It took him a few seconds to focus, but he finally did. He saw her and smiled, a faint smile but there all the same. 

"Dani, hi." 

She couldn't help her smile despite being sick with worry.

"Hey man," JT called out and moved into Bright's field of vision.

"JT!"

The smile started turning into a grimace the more aware he became. 

"How are you feeling buddy?" JT asked him.

Malcolm grunted and moved his hand towards his torn side.

"Mostly awful but it's fine. I've had worse."

Dani shook her head ruefully and mumbled, "you sure did."

"Well, medics' are on the way, mister 'it's fine'." 

"Okay." The grimace stayed plastered to his face, now accompanied with labored breathing.

"How are you really feeling?" Dani asked worriedly.

"Just uhh.. everything hurts. I'm really lightheaded. I think I'm gonna faint.. again."  
Malcolm said haltingly with eyes roaming around aimlessly.

JT clicked his fingers in front of Bright's face, prompting his eyes to snap to focus again, "No man, no sleep until you answer my question."

Malcolm's eyes strained to stay focused as he waited for JT to continue, "where is your beacon? The one that calls for bad guys and attracts them to you? We need to turn it off." 

The question which was supposed to add some levity to the situation and draw Bright's focus just a couple more minutes, had a negative effect on Malcolm. He seemed to draw more into himself and a huge sadness in his eyes unraveled.  
Maybe it was just Dani and her general concerns about Malcolm's state, but it felt like suddenly his prone posture was crushed under some invisible force.  
He looked away and down. His already labored breathing hitched once before he closed his eyes.

Luckily, the paramedics arrived. 

She moved back to clear the space for them to work, while JT -who was now looking bewildered and guilty about his friend's unexpected reaction- stayed, hands still pressed on the towels to Malcolm's side. 

The paramedics started assessing the situation and promptly started removing his clothes for direct access to all his injuries.  
One took over from JT and removed the towels. The cut was still bleeding, albeit not as heavily but she wasn't sure. The medic irrigated the site with saline and used gloved fingers to feel the depth of the wound.  
"Colon might be nicked, we need to transfer the patient right now," he urgently said.

"IV line for fluids started, ready to move," his colleague reported.  
The first packed the wound and together they swiftly transferred the motionless Bright onto the stretcher, and started moving. 

Other medics were tending to Glanton. Dani looked at the cops who attacked her friend and let herself feel the blood boiling rage from the earlier incident. She felt really bad for JT for having gone through that. And if she was feeling this intensely about what happened, she couldn't imagine what JT must be feeling. He definitely needs to process it and cool down, and that was not going to happen here with the offender present.  
She made her decision, looked at her friend and touched his elbow.

"You go with Bright. I'll process the suspect and take care of everything. "

JT looked at her, contemplating the offer.

"Okay. Thank you, Powell"

"Don't mention it. Just, call me with updates on Bright."

He started moving after the medics, "sure thing."

Dani watched him disappear and took a fortifying breath. She will need every bit of patience and self control she can gather for the rest of this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm open to criticism!


End file.
